One hard contraction later they reached the ship, which the men had hidden in a cove, somewhere north of Berwick. There were a dozen additional men waiting for them aboard thebirlinn, the type of ship favored by the West Highlander seafarers. She shivered seeing the terrifying-looking hawk carved into the prow, which was all too reminiscent of their ancestor Viking longships.
At least she knew how one of the men had earned his name. She didn’t think she wanted to know the other. “Viper” had all kinds of ominous connotations that seemed to fit the menacing-looking warrior. The captain—Hawk—helped her into the boat, trying to make her as comfortable as possible. She could see the wide-eyed look of fear spread over the crew as her situation became known, which didn’t relax her any. Mary was scared and in considerable pain, but she did her best to hide it from the others, seeing their helplessness.
She tried to take long, deep breaths, thinking it would calm her. It didn’t, but at least it kept her mind focused on something other than the prolonged absence of her husband. She could feel the men getting restless. Obviously, sitting in wait a few miles from three thousand English soldiers was making them uneasy.
Surely, Kenneth should be here by now? Her party had been forced to travel at a much slower pace; he should have caught up. What if he hadn’t been able to get away? What if they’d taken him to the pit prison in Berwick Castle? How would three men—even Bruce’s phantoms—be able to get him out?
She smothered a cry, holding her stomach in her hands and curling up in a ball as another pain struck.
“Count,” one of the sailors said from beside her. He was a heavily bearded man with the rough, craggy face of someone who’d spent many years on a boat. “My wife has had ten babes, and she says it helps to count aloud. If you know how long they’ll last it helps to bear the pain.”
Mary wasn’t sure about that, but at least it would give her something to do. She counted to twenty before the contraction started to release. “Men approaching, Captain!” someone shouted.
It seemed as if an enormous, silent cheer went up. Apparently, the men were eager to relinquish their responsibility: her. From her place in the curve of the hull, it wasn’t easy to sit up, so she was forced to wait for him to find her.
“Where is she?”
The men cleared a path, and she caught her first glimpse of him. He was filthy, covered in dirt and blood, his face streaked with soot, dark hair matted with sweat from his helm, but he’d never looked more magnificent. She wanted to throw her arms around him and bury her head against his chest like a bairn. She tried to sit up, but felt a pinch that made her wince and sink back against the comfortable hull.
Kenneth swore, his furious gaze shooting to Hawk. “What’s wrong with her? Is she hurt?”
“Nothing—”
Not waiting for the rest of Hawk’s answer, Kenneth jumped from bench to bench (or more accurately, wooden trunk to wooden trunk), closing the distance between them. Mary sobbed with relief, finding herself enfolded in her husband’s strong embrace.
It was going to be all right. He was here. She was safe. She wasn’t going to have to do this alone. She let go of some of the fear she’d been holding, knowing he would take it for her.
“What’s wrong?” he soothed gently. “Where are you hurt?”
“I’m not—”
“Mother?”
Mary pulled back in shock. She gazed to the rear of the boat, where her son had just boarded beside Magnus MacKay. “Davey?” she whispered.
Her heart swelled with joy.
She looked to Kenneth. “How?”
He smiled tenderly. “I will tell you everything later, but first tell me—”
He stopped when she cried out in pain again. Holding her stomach, she started to count. This time she counted to thirty.
Vaguely, she was aware of her frantic husband beside her. “What’s wrong with her, damn it? Why is she counting? Do something to help her!”
Mary didn’t know to whom he shouted the last order, but it was Magnus MacKay who responded.
“Congratulations, Recruit.”
Kenneth answered, “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re about to become a father.”
Kenneth’s gaze shot to hers for confirmation. The pain had relaxed enough for her to nod.
His eyes widened for a fraction of an instant, and she saw the same fear and helplessness she’d seen in the other men’s faces. But then his expression changed into one of steely determination. “Not yet, I’m not. This babe is going to be born in Dunstaffnage, with my sister’s help.”
No one dared argue with him.
